


Aurora

by fandumbandflummery



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Death Watch (Star Wars), F/M, Lazy Sex, Mandalorian, Morning Sex, Power Dynamics, Sleepy Sex, oddly competitive morning sex, please stand by, unbeta'd and probably riddled with errors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 11:45:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11230254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandumbandflummery/pseuds/fandumbandflummery
Summary: An interlude in the early hours of the morning between the Kyrt’sad’s commanding pair.





	Aurora

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write simple morning sex and then pesky character development and relationship dynamics interfered. D’oh.
> 
> Also, the title is somewhat pretentious. For that, I apologize.

The air in the tent was chilly, and even though she'd stripped down to just her shorts, Bo-Katan was warm as can be under the ragged blanket of her bedroll. That was strange, but as the rest of her body woke up, she realized it was because she was not alone on the bedroll. 

She blinks sleepily - it's hours before daybreak, and only the light of the stars and one moon dimly illuminate the tent's interior. But she doesn't need that to know that someone big, warm - and snoring like an industrial-grade forestry saw on Kashykk - was pressed against her back, one arm slung over her hip in an unmistakably familiar way. 

She smiles to herself - his last mission had parted him from her company for several rotations, while he'd gone to persuade some disenfranchised clan lord to pledge his allegiance to the Kyrt'sad. He'd come back much sooner than she'd thought, meaning the would-be ally instead met a rather swift and unpleasant end at her riduur's hands. Still, it was a pleasant surprise to have him back before daybreak, and to still have him be there on the bedroll. 

For all that they'd shared sleeping quarters for many months now, she'd hardly ever gotten the chance to wake up actually next to Pre. On top of an already restless nature, the man was a pathological early riser even by Mandalorian standards. More often than not most mornings Bo-Katan would open her bleary eyes hours before the sun rose to the sight of him or doing push-ups or sit-ups on the floor, or running through sabre drills. Mostly, she'd just catch a glimpse of him already armoured and leaving the curtained-off area of the tent that served as their '"bedroom". 

While she had come to terms with the fact that lazing around in bed one minute longer than was strictly necessary was simply something not in his nature, she wasn't about to just make a note and doze off to wake to an empty room hours later. Bo-Katan was going to enjoy this moment to the fullest. 

She turns over, mindful of the arm around her waist, and brushes her hand down his scarred cheek, fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. Pre's features do not soften with sleep, keeping the same chiseled-in-stone severity they do in his waking hours. She notes a few new marks on his face added since she time last saw him - a narrow bruise across one eyebrow, a faded black eye, and a half-healed split on one side of his lower lip. 

She knows from experience now that in all likelihood the rest of his body bears more damage, and that most of it was probably dealt by the now-deceased old clan lord as he went down fighting. Bo-Katan sighs - even solid armour can only do so much to protect a stubborn man determined to be a shining example of a true Mandalorian's ferocity. 

A quick glance over her shoulder tells her that the armour in question is nearby, neatly stacked with the rest of his clothes next to her own, their helmet visors touching in an inanimate version of a kiss. The Darksaber still rests in its sheath on Pre's jetpack, laid carefully hilt-first towards the bedroll, within his reach in an instant - but also, within hers. The Vizslas' ancestral weapon, symbol of all the glory of ancient Mandalore, a legendary artefact, and yet he leaves it where she could so easily take it and run him through while he slept. 

The unspoken trust in that gesture alone says more her than all the flowery love-poetry of the core worlds ever could. It makes her heart ache in a sweet, delicious way, and she can't stop the fond smile that spreads across her face.

However, the mischievous side of her notes that if his gear and armour are over there, then Pre is wearing absolutely nothing under the blanket here. 

Her smile turns into a wicked smirk. Well. She was nothing if not a woman who seized an opportunity when it showed. And right now the opportunity showing was for a rare treat indeed. 

She carefully moves Pre's arm off her side, and hooking her fingers in the waistband of her shorts, she wriggles a bit as she works them down, trying to move as little as possible until she can toe them off her legs. Bo-Katan shoots a quick glance to his face - he doesn't' so much as flutter an eyelid, still dead to the world. 

She shifts closer again, enough to sling her leg over his hip and drawing their bodies as close as she can. Wrapping one arm around his shoulders, she runs her hand lightly from his neck down his back, then around to the front in one long, slow motion, as she traces every familiar scar, every firm ridge of muscle on his lean body. 

With her other hand, she cups the back of his head, carding her fingers as best she can over and through through the short blond hair, slightly outgrown now from his usual severe buzz. Pre's head tilts slightly backwards, leaning into the light contact - consciously or not - and Bo-Katan takes the advantage to mouth at his throat, brushing her lips along the tender spots under his eternally scruffy jaw, nuzzling and then nipping just over his carotid artery.

Far from jerking awake at the sharp bite of her teeth, Pre just lets out a noncommittal noise. Still, he still shifts a little, tilting his head and exposing yet more pale, vulnerable skin. He keeps his eyes closed, apparently preferring to feel rather than see for now. Or he still thinks this just is all just a particularly vivid dream, that he's really still somewhere in hyperspace, flaked out in his armour under the Gauntlet's bridge, and not yet home to Zanbar's forests and Bo-katan's arms. 

Bo-Katan starts moving more insistently now, mouthing at the newly-exposed side of his neck, worrying the sensitive spots so often covered by the high collar of his armour. She presses her body in a wavelike motion against his, rocking her hips in little motions that grow stronger and more insistent. She hears his breathing become harder, heavier; and she feels a telltale little twitch where his hips line up to hers.

Heat settles low in her body at that, a slow-burning *need* that grows all the time more urgent. Her movements drag her cunt repeatedly back and forth over his cock, wetter and wetter with each pass, until she tires of the teasing friction alone. She stops her rocking motions for a moment to simply grind her slick, swollen core and clit *hard* against his stiffening cock, and that's what finally does it. 

Pre makes a low sound, halfway between a growl and a moan, as one arm curls underneath her body and around her lower back, firmly, possessively. He trails his other hand down her side, pausing briefly to trace the curve of her breast, then lower down until he hooks it under her leg. He grips at her thigh, keeping it hitched over his side. 

The heat gathered at her core rushes upwards and outward through her body, and Bo-Katan can't stop the soft noise escaping her mouth as she fully feels the eager response of his body to her touch, cock fully hard as he finally gives an answering roll of his hips against hers.

His eyes flicker open at last, slits of pale blue in the dim starlight. 

Definitely awake now. 

She lets him roll her over and settle on top of her, and he takes advantage of his new position to hook her other leg over his back, contentedly rutting against her at his own pace for a while. Bo-Katan reflexively wraps her legs tightly around his waist, urging him still closer, bucking her hips upward with a brazen insistence that makes him growl a little in the back of his throat. Her arms tighten around Pre's shoulders, as he muffles the stuttered breath he lets out against the side of her neck as he finds his place, entering her in one smooth thrust. 

"Bon'ika," he moans, before she takes his face into her hands, turning it towards hers for a proper kiss that leaves them both a little breathless.

He starts up a lazy, steady rhythm, not so much thrusting as just a rolling of hips, unhurried. She responds in kind with her own motions, legs locked around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, trying to urge him to move if not faster, than at least just move *more*. 

Pre ignores her goading, and stays moving slowly, but definitely not gently. He grinds hard against her, staying deep inside her, denying her the friction and movement that she craves. His weight keeps her pinned, unable to move much beyond her hips, and he tangles one sinewy hand in her hair, tugging to tilt her head back, baring her neck and collarbone to the marks of his teeth. 

Bo-Katan writhes underneath him, clenching around his sheathed cock whenever he just touches that place inside that makes her see stars. She relishes the hitches in his breathing whenever he does, and it just makes her squirm more. Even when he half-heartedly snarls a warning against her mouth, she rakes her nails down the length of his flexing back, and sinks her teeth into his lower lip when they part for breath between kisses. 

It's really kind of primitive, this base, physical one-upping. Each of them testing the other, driven by a need to show strength in every intimate facet of their lives, each of them revelling in meeting the challenge of the other, as if they were sparring in a ring instead of fucking on a bedroll.

Frankly, Bo-katan wouldn't trade it for all the galaxy on a silver chain. She doesn't have to ask Pre for his thoughts on the matter, written plainly as they are in each agonizingly slow, deep thrust and open-mouthed kiss.

Despite Pre's leisurely pace, Bo-Katan's pulse is racing, her veins wrapping her body in threads of fire, all burning hottest where her body connects so intimately with his. She feels the delicious surge of rising orgasm building inside her, promising release ever sweeter with each passing moment of denial. From the tension in the muscles under her hands, his harsher breathing against her neck, she knows Pre is not far behind her. 

He seems to know it too, and he pushes up onto one elbow just long enough to work a hand between their bodies, circling her swollen clit with three rough fingertips. Bo-Katan bucks hard, two, three times, and comes apart on a breathy moan, arching off the pallet. Pre tries to hold out for a little longer, riding that delicious, painful edge. She knows it will only take the tiniest nudge now to send him over it. 

"Jii, cyare," she moans, low and husky against his ear. He can't resist that, would never dream of it, and comes with a full-body shudder on one last hard thrust, arms shaking and nearly giving out as he spills deep within her. 

They pause for a few moments to get their breath back, foreheads pressed together.

"S'a hell of a way to wake a man," he murmurs against her lips. 

"Mmh," she replies, "but you liked it."

"I did," he gives her a last peck on the lips before rolling off to the side and stretching out beside her, bare and sated. Instinctively she shifts closer, resting her head on his shoulder and making a contented sound when he brings his hand up to card idly, gently though her hair.

Bo-Katan is just starting to drift off to sleep again, lulled by the afterglow and the warmth of her riduur's body alongside her own. Then Pre's hand leaves her hair, and he makes a movement as if he's going to get up. She frowns - that will not do at all. She grabs at his arm before he can do so much as sit up completely.

"And just where are you going," she growls.

"Bo, I have-" he starts, trying to brush her hand away but she cuts him off at the root. 

"Nothing to do so important that you can't sleep for a little longer. Mhm! No arguments. You're stayin' right here, mand'alor."

Pre glowers at her, but the drowsy cast of his eyes make him look more like a child who'd been told a firm "no" to a second slice of uj-cake, than the fearsome Kyrt'sad Mand'alor trying to put an insolent lieutenant in her place. 

In any case, he's no longer in the mood to argue, feeling far too satisfied and heavy to feel like getting a damn thing done now. Sighing, he settles back down onto the pallet wordlessly, the closest thing to a formal admission of defeat Bo-Katan will get from him. 

Pre curls protectively around her, as she shifts closer into the crook of his body, tucking her head under his chin. He wraps his arms around her, neither fighting the sleep that settles down on them softly as starlight. 

They stay entwined until the first pale sliver of dawn comes down from the skylight.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a Translations:
> 
> Jii, cyare = Now, love.


End file.
